


Twilight Zone

by Vsquaredk



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, OOC Faberry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 12:43:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2110353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vsquaredk/pseuds/Vsquaredk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel and Quinn are so out of character that they've thrown the entirety of McKinley High off kilter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Error 404 - File Not Found

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time, this was my first Faberry fic. How quaint...
> 
> That said, anything after Season 1 has no standing.
> 
> Also, this was inspired, apparently, more than slightly by the Torres/Seven fic, “It started with an f” by alias-hw, which can be found on fanfiction.net

Santana was distinctly wondering if she was in the twilight zone. It had started as a regular school day. She'd met Brittany at the door for early Cheerios practice after a wholesome breakfast of sawdust and ash. Her mom had just shaken her head (long having come to an acceptance that her daughter was not going to eat), and told her to have a good day.  
  
Then she got to school.  
  
At first, it hadn't seemed like there was something incredibly different: Cheerios practice was just that, Cheerios practice. She was still trying to get used to being at the bottom of the pyramid, because when life gives you lemons, you ate them. Whole. She'd scowled at the freshmen that jeered at her, and, like clockwork, they'd all turned pale and scurried away.  
  
It was then that she heard a giggle. A strangely familiar giggle, from somewhere above her, that she couldn't place. That giggle kept occurring throughout practice, and it started creeping her out.  
  
Santana waited until she and Brittany were the last people in the change rooms after practice, like usual, and when the last person left, she reached for Brittany. Just as their lips met, she heard a surprisingly familiar voice say, "Get a room, you two!" followed by that giggle. Santana froze, and turned to gawk.  
  
Did Quinn fucking Fabray just _giggle_?  
  
"You two are just so cute together!" There was a sound that was reminiscent of a "squee!" and Quinn beamed. Santana's jaw dropped. What the hell was happening? Before Santana could really understand what was going on, Brittany had grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the change room so quickly that Santana was pretty sure she'd gotten whiplash.  
  
Santana's brain finally caught up enough for her to let out a simple "What the fuck?" Brittany merely nodded; they were both beyond shellshocked. "What the hell has Q sprouting rainbows, butterflies, puppies and unicorns?"  
  
"I had a pet unicorn once..." Brittany said, confused. She turned to Santana, asking, "Did you know marshmallows come from unicorns?" Santana looked at her, more perplexed than ever.  
  
"No, I didn't... Anyway, that was majorly creepy." Brittany nodded in agreement just as the bell rang. They decided to ignore the fact that something was obviously very wrong with Quinn Fabray, and go to class.  
  
Everything seemed more or less normal to Santana until she got to her 3rd period class, which she shared with Rachel. Mr. Shuester had told them that they would be working together on some weird Spanish project the day before.  
  
Santana was ready for the ridiculously long tirade that was sure to spout from Berry's mouth. Something akin to her having done a plethora of research, and had basically done the whole project already, thank you, but please save the applause for later, as it will disturb the other students (along with the accompanying spreadsheet and PowerPoint presentation that Berry undoubtedly had prepared). To say the Latina was shocked that she had not actually done work at all last night, had barely slept, and was barely speaking was an understatement (she was talking, at least, and in remarkably succinct sentences, so Santana was pretty sure it wasn't quite the apocalypse yet). This also completely threw Santana off, since she had hoped that getting paired with the diva would be like it usually was, a 'get out of jail free' card.  
  
"Manhands! Why the fuck didn't you do anything last night?" Rachel languidly turned to look her way, and smirked. It was a remarkable smirk that rivaled the Latina's own, and the girl shivered. Not in a good way, either. The diva just kept looking at her like she'd eaten Brittany's locker-dwelling bird, and Santana felt that it was justified that she felt threatened, even if it detracted from her badassery.  
  
"You're fuckin' hot."  
  
Santana gaped. 'Berry made a swear! What the fuck?! Berry made a massive swear! And she dropped a 'g'!!'  
  
"Anyway, Santana, why do you even care? You speak Spanish. You don't need my help." There was a dismissing wave of the hand from the Latina (knowing the subject was a horrible reason not to slack off), which induced a grunt and an eyeroll from the diva. Santana was officially uneasy. Maybe there was something in the water... Something that only affected blonde HBICs and divas of the verbose variety.  
  
By lunch, Santana had gotten fifteen texts from various Cheerios, Glee club members, and other students in the vein of "Who replaced Quinn with a giggling hyper mess?" or "Guess what? RuPaul's being quiet, omg!". It was all very confusing, and she thought it particularly odd that people were asking her about Quinn, since the two had not been getting along since the cat fight weeks prior.  
  
At lunch, Brittany dragged her over to the Glee table (minus Rachel, who was presumably in the auditorium, practicing her vocals), the football team, and Quinn. Santana gave Brittany a perplexed look and the blonde ignored her, just plunking down on a seat, and leaning over the table. "What happened to them?"  
  
"The current theory is that they were probed by aliens last night." Kurt crossed his legs daintily. The table chose to ignore Brittany's quip about having been abducted by aliens once, though Mercedes couldn't help but think that it explained a lot.  
  
"The question is why would they want Treasure Trail?" The table nodded in consensus, and fell into a ponderous silence.  
  
Suddenly, Kurt's iPhone let out a noise. He pulled it out, and his eyebrow quirked. "Jacob Ben Israel's blog just updated." He poked at his screen to pull up the article, and placed it on the table in front of him.  
  
"You get notifications from Jewfro's blog?" He nodded absently as everyone leaned forward to read the minuscule type. The entry was accompanied by a tiny picture of people Santana couldn't help but recognize. "Hey, isn't that Q?" The table nodded in agreement.  
  
"Rachel was wearing that outfit yesterday," Kurt added, pointing at the picture's slightly obscured other subject. The two were obviously arguing in the picture. "I can't forget it 'cause it's still burned into my retinas."  
  
"It gave me nightmares," Tina whispered. Artie leaned over to pat her thigh as Mercedes murmured consolingly.  
  
"Why were they together last night?" asked Mercedes, "What's it say, Kurt?"  
  
"Quinn Fabray and Rachel Berry were seen in front of the cheerleader's locker after school yesterday, arguing about an assignment the two were paired in. A source says that later that night, an explosive argument occurred between the two at the Berry household, followed by loud guttural shouting and moans as well as much swearing. What followed after that was silence. The cheerleader emerged an hour later. Our source regrets being unable to actually get pictures of the proceedings." Kurt took a second to process what he had just read as everyone at the table looked either disgusted or overtly shocked. All hell broke loose.  
  
"Did-"  
"Jacob Ben Israel-"  
"Jewfro just-"  
"-insinuate that those two-"  
"Rachel Fucking Berry and Quinn Fucking Fabray!!"  
"-had sex yesterday?!"  
  
They all paused to breathe, and Santana turned to Brittany. "How do you know what insinuate means?" Brittany smiled a strange smile that the brunette couldn't place, and turned back to the conversation at hand.  
  


* * *

  
Across campus, Puck was reading over Finn's shoulder and said simply, "That's hot."  
  
"What is?" Finn asked, confused. "Rachel and Quinn just had an argument. There's nothing hot about that."  
  
"Try again, bro. With the mailman this time."  
  
After several seconds, Finn's face squinched up oddly, and turned back to Puck, slapping his shoulder good-naturedly. "Rachel wouldn't do that to me, we love each other."  
  
Puck shook his head. Finn was a lost cause.  
  


* * *

  
By Glee, the halls were buzzing with gossip about Jacob Ben Israel's news. Few people really felt like confronting the two girls about the stories, but Rachel had made it perfectly clear that she didn't care about it (or much of anything, really). Quinn just smiled sweetly at everyone in the halls, and was walking with a distinct spring in her step while humming upbeat songs from years gone by. Between not wanting to compromise the comfortable quiet that had descended around the ingenue and being too afraid of the change in the HBIC, the glee club could only watch as stories spiraled out if control.  
  
Santana watched as Quinn played with Kurt's hat (on her head), making goofy faces and giggling, and shuddered. She wondered where Manhands was, since she want in the choir room yet. When Mr. Shuester walked in 5 minutes late saying assignments, and Rachel still hadn't come in, Finn finally looked up and stated, "Rachel's not here yet."  
  
Before Santana could say something witty (she was leaning toward "No shit, Sherlock!"), Mr. Shuester told the club that Rachel couldn't come.  
  
There was a giggle from the blond head cheerleader, and a quiet, "Yes, she can!" that somehow carried over the incredibly quiet room. All eyes turned to the red-faced cheerleader, who shrugged, as if to say 'what?', giggled again, and said, "She did last night..."  
  
“Ay Dios Mio!”  
  
The room erupted into chaos. _  
_


	2. Error 417 - Expectation Failed

The next several days had the odd duo slowly getting back into character (the number of people being blinded by Quinn’s grin was decreasing slowly but steadily, and students working with Rachel started to slack off again), but the school was a little more than shocked that now they could be seen together quite often. Something had shifted that day, and they were afraid to learn the consequences. So afraid that Rachel had no need for those extra clothes she brought ‘in case of slushy’.  
  
Finn, within those several days, finally noticed that Rachel was acting differently, and decided to confront her about it. Santana happened to be walking by, so she had front row seats to the lover’s spat-that-wasn’t.  
  
“...You’re acting different now.” Finn looked down at the diminutive brunette, and crossed his arms confrontationally. Santana stopped and leaned against the row of lockers across the hall from them. She wanted to know what the hell was going on.  
  
“Different _ **ly**_ , Finn, don’t forget your suffixes.” Finn looked at Rachel, confused, but she ignored him, and after a slight pause to think, she continued. “I guess I am, kinda. Is it a bad different?” She looked up at him and cocked her head.  
  
“Well, no... It’s just, well...” The tall boy’s voice shifted into a whisper. Santana rolled her eyes over the melodrama, and nearly missed what Finn said next. “There’s rumors going around that you, well... hadsexwithQuinn, and it’s kinda bothering me, because you’re my girlfriend, and, well, you’re not even trying to stop them.”  
  
“Oh, that’s all?” Rachel looked up at him and smiled serenely, “Because that’s not a rumor.” Finn’s eyes widened in shock– “I really did have sex with Quinn.” – then just narrowed in disgust.  He muttered some excuse about having class and forgetting books or something, and lumbered off, leaving Rachel with a slightly pensive face. Santana huffed a small sigh, disappointed at the lack of theatrics and gossiping material, and turned to get to class.  
  
It was definitely not a surprise to Santana that Finn dumped Rachel the next morning. Rachel moped around during the day, and didn’t show up for Glee again. Quinn frowned at that, and ended up leaving early, citing assignments and lots of Head Cheerios planning stuff to do (Santana almost called bullshit, because she had been Head Cheerleader once, too, but she didn’t say anything, opting to scowl).  
  
The next day, Rachel was wearing a wrinkled t-shirt, ripped jeans, and a mellow smile, while Quinn skipped down the hallway, humming Bieber songs like a silly preteen girl. Santana shivered at the implications as Brittany gaped and Kurt walked into a door.  
  


* * *

  
It was Saturday, and the glee club girls (and Kurt) were at an ‘impromptu casual gathering’ at the Berry household. When Rachel had asked to hang out the other day, Quinn had looked excitedly at them all, and somehow, they had all been roped in by the unknown-until-then irresistible power of Quinn’s shining eyes and puppy dog pout.  
  
Santana was thirsty, and had meandered into the kitchen to see Rachel practically in her fridge, reaching for a jug of what was presumably lemonade. It was oddly amusing to Santana that she could probably push the diva into the fridge and close the door, if she’d been feeling mean enough.  
  
“Anything to drink in here, Man Hands?”  
  
“Well, there’s water, milk, tea, though you’d have to boil your own water... hmmmm... Oh! Lemonade? We have plain, and strawberry!” Rachel stuck her head up from behind the fridge door, “I’m pretty fond of the juice from pressed lemons myself...”  
  
Santana shook her head, “Just water’s fine, thanks.” She stood timidly at the counter, still ready to bolt at a moments notice.  
  
“Your loss,” the shorter brunette shrugged, pouring a cup of pink lemonade for herself. “Glasses are in the cupboard over there, water’s in the taps, and if you want ice, it’s in the freezer. Make yourself at home.” She walked out, and Santana stared. She was pretty sure that somewhere in Rachel’s unwritten rule book of life (that she’d probably actually written out at some point, and hidden under her bed), ‘be an impeccable hostess’ was on there somewhere near the top, somewhere after ‘wear awful sweaters’ and ‘talk a lot’... and that the diva had probably broken all of them  
  
The sound of tinkling laughter (that never failed to cause a shiver to run down the Latina’s back) drifted over from the next room.  
  
What the hell had those two done?  
  


* * *

  
Santana was definitely having a difficult time following the conversation, by this point, because the two of them couldn’t stop laughing. Rachel was holding onto Quinn’s arm for support, and Quinn a hand completely muffling her mouth. Mercedes had, after the second movie, and pizza (Kurt had a little freak out when he saw Rachel eating pepperoni, but she’d just shrugged when he mentioned her veganism. “Too much work,” she’d muttered over her mouthful, “I’m lazy.”) decided that it was time to get to the bottom of whatever it was had happened to cause the dramatic change.  
  
“So, like, what actually happened last week, Quinn?” The smiling blonde had looked at Rachel beside her, who just turned to look at Quinn, who promptly started giggling. Amidst the laughing, something was said about how it was all Mr. Green and Biology’s fault, how they couldn’t decide on a topic to research, and the argument had raged out of control and completely off topic (and just plain mean), until...  
  
“So...” Rachel gasped for air, “So I say to her...”  
  
“...that I’m only a bitch all the time because...”  
  
“Because she’s sexually–”  
  
“–frustrated! Can you believe it?”  
  
“And that all she needed was...” Rachel fell over, laughing, Quinn wrapping an arm around the diva. Neither was able to finish the sentence.  
  
Kurt raised an eyebrow, confused. “Was...?”  
  
“A good fuck!” Rachel bursted out. Mercedes winced at the volume, while Brittany started to giggle, finally catching on. Tina just clutched a charm protectively. Santana could tell Kurt was wishing he hadn’t asked.  
  
“So I’m like, you’re no different...” Quinn was gesticulating wildly at this point, causing Rachel to laugh even harder, nodding like a madwoman.  
  
“ ‘Cause I’m anal retentive, and I talk too much, and I’m uptight about EVERYTHING!!”  
  
“And I’m like, in my head, Rachel just needs a good fuck too!”  
  
“So she gives me one!” the girls cried in unison. They looked at each other, grinning and laughing, while the others just... sat and processed what had just happened. The story actually made sense somehow...  
  
“And here we are!” Rachel exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. Quinn nodded in agreement, and blew a raspberry on Rachel’s cheek, giggling.  
  
Santana just shook her head. Here they were indeed...

  
  
_f-t’the-i-t’the-n._


End file.
